


Uptown Girl

by geckoch



Category: Ramona Series - Beverly Cleary
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, Nipple Play, Pregnancy Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Speculum, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoch/pseuds/geckoch
Summary: A rich classmate takes a predatory interest in Beezus.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Taking this novel summary as an angsty fic prompt:
> 
> http://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/230274.html?thread=1279317122#cmt1279317122
> 
> It all got a little out of control.

"Have you _heard_ what your little sister's been up to?" 

Beatrice started at the warm, breathy purr at her ear. Of course it was Heather. Princess Heather, as Ramona used to jeer, was always coming around here. _Slumming,_ her mind provided traitorously. 

Leaning against her back, Heather wrapped her arms around her in a parody of a hug. Perfectly manicured hands slid over her belly in a carress. "I mean, it could be worse. She doesn't have a bun in the oven or anything." 

Feeling her cheeks burn and her eyes sting, Beatrice willed herself not to cry. She'd made her peace with her family and Jesus, it wasn't anyone else's place to judge her. Especially not Heather. 

"Oh, come on, _Beezus,_ can't you take a joke?" laughed Heater. "At least you're out of the itty bitty titty committee." Her hands darted up to Beatrice's tender breasts for emphasis and Beatrice slapped them away. Heather was always putting her hands on Beatrice. And, just like always, pushing her away was met by a scornful,"Ugh, I'm just kidding around. I'm not like your sister." 

_No,_ Beatrice thought viciously, _you're not._ Ramona, as immature and bratty as she could be, always treated her girlfriends right. And she had guts, too. The only coming out Heather had ever done was at her debutante's ball. 

But when Heather asked, "Do you want to go for a drive or not?" Beatrice still found herself whispering a meek, "okay." And later, in the back of Heather's convertible, she didn't push her hands away. 

* * *

"Heather." Beatrice squirmed like an overturned turtle, sliding helplessly on the plush leather of the back seat, as Heather hiked her shirt and bra up enough to expose her breasts to the evening air. "Shouldn't you put the top up?" 

"What's wrong?" Heather smiled down at her, a wicked, conspiratorial little smile that made her heart pound. "Chicken?" 

"I'm not," Beatrice protested. "It's just... anyone could come by and...." She couldn't even finish the thought. The idea of someone seeing her like this, already knocked up and still coming out to lover's lane to get done in public, was bad enough to think without saying it out loud. 

Heather just laughed and lowered her head to suck on a swollen nipple. Beatrice moaned, hastily stuffing a hand in her mouth to keep herself quiet. She could feel her panties soaking through and she knew how Heather would smirk when she finally got around to putting her hand down there. 

When Heather pulled away, her lips and Beatrice's nipple both red and swollen, shiny with spit, she pouted. "When do you think you'll have milk?" 

Blushing furiously, Beatrice shrugged. She didn't know and she didn't want to speculate about it with Heather. 

"Oh my god," laughed Heather. Her hand had wandered under Beatrice's skirt and now she flipped it up, looking down at the damp cotten between her legs. "Did you come?" 

"No," insisted Beatrice. 

"You _so_ did, you slut." Heather slapped her between the legs and Beatrice's hips jerked involuntarily. "You're just lying because you want some more. But I can be nice." Her hand, wet with Beatrice's own juices, traced up her body, over the curves of her belly and breasts, over the rumpled cotton covering her shoulders and neck, and finally caressed her cheek gently. Beatrice prayed it wouldn't leave a stain on her shirt. 

Bending her head to Beatrice's other nipple, she slid three fingers up inside her. 

Beatrice bit her lip to stifle a yelp. "Heather," she gasped, "that's too much." 

"Oh please." Heather lifted her head from Beatrice's nipple and rolled her eyes. "You're going to _give birth_ in a few months. If you think this is too much, we've got some practicing to do." She wiggled her fingers, making Beatrice squeal. "Besides," she added with a sly grin, "you love it." 

Beatrice leaned back in surrender as Heather took her nipple into her mouth again, letting her legs spread wider. 

* * *

She didn't know why she kept giving in. She didn't like to think about it too much, if she was just that easy or desperate for attention, any kind of attention. She'd never gone looking for anything like this, but somehow Heather came to her and Beatrice always let her have her way. 

But, now, sitting in the doctor's office, she wished she would have put her foot down about the hickeys. Heather had gotten crazy about marking her up - her throat, her breasts, her belly. Usually she just dressed to cover it, but she hadn't thought about her appointment. She'd come alone, insisting that they couldn't afford to have either of her parents take a whole day off and that Ramona should be in school. All true, but not the only reason. It was bad enough to have the doctor - who knew she was Miss Quimby and not Mrs. - discreetly ignoring the love bites all over her. 

Her baby was healthy, that was the important thing, she told herself. When it was all over, the doctor left her alone to dress. But, before she could get changed, the door opened again. It was Heather, dressed in a candy-striper's uniform. 

"I'm volunteering," she told Beatrice. "Daddy says they practically save a spot for legacies, but charity work never hurts. Besides," she added, stepping up to the edge of the table, between Beatrice's ankles, "maybe I can be there when you give birth. I think they'd let me." 

* * *

The invitation to sleep over came as a surprise. Heather had never invited her to her house before. 

"My parents are going away to Hawaii for their anniversary. We can do it in my bed. I thought maybe you'd like that, since you're _such_ a wuss about the car." 

Beatrice was tempted to protest that she wasn't such a wuss about the car, it was only when Heather left the top down, but she held her tongue. It wasn't often that Heather wanted to do anything nice for her. One hand went to the barrettes that Heather had bought her, months ago, when this... whatever this was first started. She wore them often. 

"Okay," she found herself saying, almost shy. "I- I _would_ like that." 

Heather's partents were still there when they arrived at the mansion, their packed luggage stacked up by the door. Beatrice introduced herself politely and tried not to feel self-conscious as she waddled up the spiral staircase, following Heather to her room. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Heather kissed her, pulling her onto the huge, four-post bed. It felt so good on her sore back. Beatrice relaxed back into the goose-down, eyes sliding shut for a moment. A metallic noise made her eyes snap open. 

Heather was holding a speculum in one hand, grinning down at her. "I stole it from work," she said proudly. "You wanna play doctor, Beezus?" 

Beatrice couldn't answer. Her heart was pounding in her throat and, to her shame and terror, between her legs, where she was wet and throbbing in an instant. 

"Of course you do," purred Heather, setting the speculum down on the duvet and leaning down to kiss her again. She deftly plucked the barrettes from Beatrice's hair and clamped one painfully on each nipple. "There. Now you won't leak all over my comforter." 

"Heather," she whimpered. 

" _Doctor_ Heather. Spread your legs nice and wide for me." She patted Beatrice's belly with her free hand. "Let's not pretend you don't know how, Miss Quimby." 

Beatrice did as she was told, gripping the bedclothes and trembling. Heather made a show of spreading her labia and sliding a finger in her, feeling around, up and down. "Mm-hmm, no hymen here. This is definitely not an immaculate conception." She diddled Beatrice's clitoris with her thumb as she spoke, then pulled out her finger and gave her slit a hearty smack. "Well, since you're not saving anything for marriage, how about I stick this up you and take a look-see?" 

Nipples throbbing with pain, feeling sloppy and empty with Heather's finger out of her, she nodded. She hated when Heather talked like that, hated the way it made her feel, all hot and dirty at the same time, but she'd given up protesting. It only made Heather worse. 

The cool touch of the speculum on her lips made her jump. "Now, you may feel a little discomfort," Heather told her in prim, professional tones, before breaking into a filthy grin. "So let me keep you occupied." 

She didn't have time to ask what that meant before Heather was pressing the speculum into her and rubbing her clitoris fast and rough. Beatrice wailed and hoped desperately that Heather's parents had left the house already. "Heather, Heather, please." Her hands reached down weakly to try to push it out of her and Heather slapped them away impatiently, then reached up to lay a punishing slap on her left breast. 

"You are a _terrible_ patient, Beezus. Play with your tits if you're having such a hard time." She slapped Beatrice's other breast, hard, making the barrette on her nipple scrape painfully as it caught on her hand. 

Beatrice reached up with shaking hands to stoke over her aching nipples, gently, in contrast to Heather's renewed interest in her clitoris. She whimpered as Heather pushed the speculum deeper, beak bumping painfully inside her as it bottomed out, and then began to open it. 

"I see London, I see France, I see everything Beezus has," said Heather in a sing-song. 

"That doesn't even rhyme," protested Beatrice nonsensically, feeling the first spasms of the orgasm Heather was mercilessly rubbing out of her. Her hips rocked, the speculum a solid, bruising presence inside her as she came and Heather watched.


End file.
